


Maker Damned

by comavampure



Series: Fuck the Maker [3]
Category: Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Insert in Thedas, Modern Character in Thedas, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pirates!!!, Raiders of the Waking Sea
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-10
Updated: 2016-05-03
Packaged: 2018-04-20 03:09:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 20,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4771247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/comavampure/pseuds/comavampure
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A modern OC who doesn't know anything about Thedas or Dragon Age, gets dragged to Thedas.  He doesn't end up with the Inquisition, in fact he ends up with our very friendly neighborhood Pirate Queen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Mala Suerte

**Author's Note:**

> This story has CANON DIVERGENCE, as if that wasn't obvious. Because rather than having Anders be off in some forest, as he's referred to have been, I'm going to have him on Isabela's ship and a part of her crew. Because what a perfect way to hide from the templars than to keep moving? Albeit it's on the sea. He's hiding on the insistence of Hawke.

“Remy, how much you want to bet seat 20A complains again?” The whispered voice of Marianna made me snicker but it dropped when the plane gave an audible shake that left us both bracing against the cabinets in the kitchenette. The weather hadn’t said anything about storms but you know the weather, unpredictable as ever. In fact it had almost seemed odd for there to be no tropical storms in the midst of summer especially in the Caribbean when there could be dark clouds rolling over looking like it’s about to rain and the clouds just continue rolling and it becomes a sunny day. Either way there wasn’t much we could do about it and we were too far away from any port to land and get out of the storm. So we had to suffer through it for now.

“Are you two done gossiping or are you going to help me take this out?” Our supervisor, Nancy, glowered over her cart. Marianna and I shared a look but we continued on with our work. 

I’m a flight attendant, granted only during the summers to pay for school. This was my first long flight. Beatrice who normally took these flights because she was a more senior worker, was ill and I was the only one free to do it. So of course, I took the job, loving the boost I’d get for the prolonged hours from the flight from Canada to Brazil with a layover in New York and Puerto Rico and then I could take a quick break to visit my father before hitching to another flight back to the states and then another home to Saskatoon.

“Bruja pendeja…” Marianna mumbled under her breath as she prepared the rest of the food onto my own cart. Standard procedure to offer refreshments when there was turbulence, anything to get the passengers minds off the occasional shaking. 

“Just because I don’t speak Spanish, doesn’t mean I don’t know an insult when I hear one.” Nancy snapped as she hastily set up everything in the most convenient way possible. Nancy hated turbulence because she survived a plane crash once. Which was comforting to us because we knew she’d take care of us, but that didn’t mean she’d like to experience it again. 

“I’m sorry, pequeña.” My nickname for her made her glare but I saw the twitch of her lips. “I’ll keep Maria busy for you.” At the waggle of my eyebrows, Nancy snorted but pushed her cart out.

Marianna smacked my arm playfully but pushed me to go out. Fraternization wasn’t allowed amongst flight attendants but I got away with it because of the misconception my coworkers had about me. They all thought I was gay. I know, horribly wrong of me to let them continue to think that but they aren’t completely off the mark. 

I pushed the snack cart and donned my most professional and warm smile as I attended to first class. A rich family with their misbehaving teenager who refused to lower the volume of her music. A Brazilian Dignitary whom I chatted with in Spanish about the political situation currently. 

I tended to Mrs. O’Reilson whom I’ve seen multiple times over the summer. She was a rich old lady and went all over the world, donating this and donating that to all kinds of causes and never had want for anything. She would have flown economy, to save money, if her agent and board of directors hadn’t forced her into first class. She was a pleasant woman and flirted with me madly, despite being old enough to be my great-grandmother. Not that I gave any less than she, I encouraged her. Always nice to be told you’re attractive. Men rarely get compliments like women do.  Its sad but true. 

Moving on from first class, I joined Nancy for Economy. Thankfully most of the passengers were asleep or trying to distract themselves from the shaking of the plane. 

“Sir. Can you tell that… that woman to cover up. It’s inappropriate!” And here was 20A. A high strung woman practically dragged me over and pointed to a woman who was breastfeeding her child. It wasn’t exactly against the rules but this lady had made many complaints so far and I rather not deal with her again, especially as the plane shook again.

Inwardly sighing, I looked to her. “I’ll take care of it in a moment. But you look thirsty, perhaps some water? Soda or juice?” My accent was especially heavy when I dealt with her. I leaned forward “Or perhaps something stronger? On the house?” I gave a wide smile, her son who sat next to her rolled his eyes but leaned forward to catch a glimpse of the breastfeeding woman.

“Oh… oh yes please.” The woman’s hand trailed along my arm and I grit my teeth but nodded. I served her a watered down coke and rum and then moved along. 

It was relatively easy to deal with most of these people. As I moved toward the back, I switched which side I stood on thanks to the bathroom and then walked backwards to the back of economy, helping those there. 

“Mercedes, just calm down. You need to get used to the plane. We’ll be making these trips more often if this goes well,” Was the first thing I heard as I pulled the cart backwards. I turned to see a white haired women, trying to pry the clutching hands of her blonde companion off the armrest. The woman in question had her eyes screwed shut. 

“Something wrong ladies?” I questioned as softly as I could. The scared one peeked at me just as the plane shook again, only it was a rather rough one, I had to brace myself against the overhead compartments.

“Remy.” My headset went off in my ear. “The turbulence is getting worse. Finish up quickly so we can strap ourselves in. 

“She’s just scared of flying. Do you have Dramamine? Motion sickness, you know.” I nodded and pulled the small package out and set the pills down with some water and a bag of chips. 

“Anything for you?” 

“No, thank you dear.” 

Quickly, but with no less amount of care I served the rest of economy and placated their worries and then pushed my cart back, secured it and strapped myself in next to my co workers. The plane shook a lot. I peeked out to the window and saw the storm clouds and that’s when I caught the lightning as it arced through the clouds and struck the plane not once or twice, but three times. I guess lightning can strike the same spot more than once.

Panic would have set in if I hadn’t been drilled on what to do in this scenario. Still, the nerves jittered me as Marianna and I made sure to put our life vests on before we began speaking in English and Spanish to the crowd about the emergency situation. We’ll have to make a landing, hopefully somewhere on land if we can make it, though given our current pass over open water, that wasn’t likely. 

I could feel my heart pumping but had to make sure the passengers were alright. The lifeboats came with radios and flares and everything needed to survive this kind of situation. I reminded myself of this over and over, even as I helped some of the children in economy put their life vests on. 

I was halfway through economy, watching the air marshal helping us when the plane dropped a significant amount of altitude, the lights flickering. Screams erupted around me, but I kept myself tight lipped, gripping a seat as I listened to the pilot relay the emergency situation to the nearest port in Spanish, French, English, and Portuguese. 

I heard sobbing around me, but the Air Marshal pulled me up and we continued ensuring everyone was ready. 

“Everyone get ready we’re crashing in the ocean.” Came over the coms and we rushed to the emergency exit to help open it the moment we touched. It happened so fast. We all felt the impact, the splash of water and clasp of the emergency exit popped open. The self-inflatable slide coming out and lifeboats ejected but tethered to the slide until we cut it off. 

It was a rush as the passengers and those in our care took their seats with them as they slid down and joined others out there.

“Son, help me make sure everyone has evacuated.” I listened to the Air Marshal as we rushed to ensure economy was empty. I took one side and he took the other. That’s when we both saw them. 

“Ma’am! You have to get out of here!” 

“I just need to grab my carry on!” Her panicked voice cried as she tried to dislodge her bag. The Air Marshal cursed but grabbed her by her waist and pulled her away, her older companion following after. 

I don’t know why I decided to do what I did but I blame my sympathy for the woman. I leaned back on my arms on the seats and kicked the compartment and the bags came out. I grabbed them, and slung them over my shoulders and did a final check of the area before rushing to the exit, dipping to grab my small bag as well and sliding down the slide. 

“Mercedes it’s not worth more than your life!”

“It’s your fault if you hadn’t convinced me to get on a fucking plane!” I saw the woman and reached out as she stood up angrily. The storm was loud and rough but I went to grab her when a wave hit the boat. 

Two things occurred to me. One, we were both going overboard. And two, she didn’t have a life vest on or had her seat in her arms. I swore as the water hit me, pulling me out and swam for her as she flailed in the water.

Thunder rolled and lightning crashed as we were both pulled away from the boats, my life vest activated and inflated as I tried to reach the woman but I was weighed down by the bags. 

That’s when I saw a great big flash of light. Green and white and it hit the water, rippling through. It felt like I was burning at first and then nothing as another wave hit me. 

I must have blacked out because the next thing I remember is hitting a hardwood floor, water and bags around me as I coughed up water. A burning sensation on my skin and inside of me as hacked up as much water as I could. Once I could take a shaky breath in I noticed the feet that surrounded me and looked up just in time to see the tip of a sword positioned in front me. 

My eyes followed the length of the arm to a dark tanned wrist covered in many bracelets, a leather jacket of sorts and then to a neck adorned in an elaborate gold necklace to the chin with a simple gold piercing and then up to the most marvelous golden brown eyes I have ever seen. Then I took in her large hat that sat slightly skewed and the devilish smile and mischievous eyes that peered at me.

“Anders, is he a demon?” Her voice was a beautiful as she was and her lips, the way they moved, stirred my loins. I think she did it on purpose because she smirked at me.

“No, I don’t know what he is but he doesn’t feel like a demon but…” That’s when I looked to the man standing next to her. He had ginger blonde hair, and what looked to be about the saddest most forlorn eyes I ever met. 

“Demon?” I croaked and then broke into a coughing fit, my body shaking as I clutched my chest. 

A glowing blue hand appeared in front of me. I yelped and pushed myself back and away, those standing around us scattered as I stared at the one called Anders as he looked at me shock. “Diablo! You accuse me of being a demon but look at you!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:   
> _Mala Suertes_ \- Bad Luck  
>  _Bruja pendeja_ \- Stupid witch  
>  _pequeña_ \- nickname for a dear person that is short, or small. sometimes younger.  
>  _Diablo!_ \- The Devil, contextually is used as an exclamation sort of like Damnit! or Wow!
> 
>    
> To those who have read "Maker, Have Mercy", might have recognized Mercy, or Mercedez as one of Remy's passengers. This was deliberate. 
> 
> What did you think? How was the flow? I apologize for the grammatical errors and spelling mistakes, I'm going in and fixing as many as I see.


	2. Ay Dios Mío

“I’m a mage, not a demon.  Contrary to what the Templars say, although given the circumstances…” The ginger blonde stated, his eyes cast down for a moment guiltily.  His hand stopped glowing and he placed it down.  I was still convinced he was a demon though, no one normal has their hands glow.  Not like that anyway. 

“Get up.”  The golden-eyed woman hefted me up roughly and I grunted as my leg throbbed in pain. 

“Isabela, he’s injured.  Let me heal him.” 

I looked down at my leg and took a deep breath once seeing it was badly burned.  My uniform khakis all but burned away to the knee.  The flesh of my leg was black.  I’m pretty dark skinned as it is but this was black as in crispy, extra crispy.  I could see red and pink where the burnt flesh was flaking off. The pain was there but it was dulled, no doubt I passed out when the pain was too much. But how had I gotten burnt?  Had the plane exploded?  Had the oil and hot metal burnt me while I was in the water?  Were there other survivors?  So many questions swirled around me.

“Don’t get your knickers in a twist, Anders.  I just want him somewhere a little more _private_.”  The woman pulled me along toward a room. I barely managed to hold back a hiss of pain as I had to step on my injured leg.  

I couldn’t help but take a brief look at my surroundings and note I was on a ship just as we disappeared into a room.  A rescue ship?  I was pushed down onto a chair in the barely lit room.  A metal brazier was lit with fire.  What they don’t have lamps?  That thing… man demon thing came up to me again.  In his hands he carried the bag I remember belonging to the passenger who had gone overboard with me and my bag as well.

The passenger!  Was she alive?  Did she also get picked up? 

“Was there a woman with me… wherever you found me?”  I asked quickly as the Anders demon set the bags down on a desk and the woman opened them to riffle through them.  “Hey!  That is private property of BluJet International.  It’s a federal offense to open that without the owner’s permission!”  I wanted to get up but the Anders fellow came back to me and pushed me back down.  I flinched away from his touch.

I wasn’t religious per say, but my mother was Catholic.  She believed in demon possessions and exorcism, so naturally I was wary but I never let it control me. However, seeing a hand just glow like that, without the use of pyrotechnics or glowsticks, was very weird and very suspicious.

“If you hold still I can heal you, if you’ll let me.” 

“Heal?  Heal!  Just give me some alcohol and gauze and I can patch myself up fine.  I don’t need your help, _demon_.  I know first aid.” I hissed at him. I’d need a lot more than alcohol and gauze to patch this up but I didn’t want that glowing hand thing touching me again.  The both of them paused and looked back at me curiously. 

“Alcohol will only disinfect-“

“Yes that’s the point of it.  Neither of you are helping after apparently fishing me out of the water-“  I pushed off the chair, ignored my leg and hobbled forward.  The ginger one tried to pull me back but I placed my hand on his chest and shoved him.  Only I meant to. 

Instead what happened was something I never expected.

A green cloudy film covered my hand as I made contact with him it seemed to be coming off of me and spiraling around my hand into him.  It felt odd, like something in me was pulling - no being sucked toward and into him. It was like a second skin, like a second me but also not.  What was he doing? What was _I_ doing?   There was a sharp gasp from the man and he stumbled back as if injured.  His eyes wide and brows furrowed in confusion. 

“ _Hijueputa! Qué hiciste?!”_   I snapped immediately in my native tongue, anger and suspicion rising.  I yanked my hand back and pulled it close to my body as soon as the green film disappeared. 

Once again a sword was pointed at me and this time the woman had a fierceness to her that frightened me and, sad to say, aroused me.  Her other hand held a dagger that she kept up and she slowly inched around to face me.  The sword inches from my neck with the clear threat that if I did anything, she would end me easily. 

“Anders, you alright?  Hawke would throw me to the qunari if I got you hurt after all this time.” She spoke with a softness and protectiveness that came from friends but also with that playfulness to it toward the end. 

“I’m fine… More than fine.”

“Oh?”  The singsong quality and the twitch of her lips made the man roll his eyes. 

“I’m not sure what happened but I feel like I have an overabundance of mana all of a sudden. I think that’s what he did but…how?”  He took a step to me again, his head tilted to the side inquisitively. 

“ _Flaco_ , step back.”  I growled at him and hobbled back, ignoring the fact my leg was screaming.

“Flaco?”

“He’s speaking Antivan.”  The woman had lowered her sword. 

“Antivan?”  I screwed my eyes shut as I shuddered, my leg shaking from the effort of standing and then it gave out.  I grunted as they each gripped my arms and hefted me onto a bed. 

“He’s sweating.  I should really …” I stopped listening because I felt a chill, tremors carrying up my leg and permeating throughout my body. 

I reached into my shirt grabbing the cross my mother gave me when I moved out.  “Por favor, ¡Oh Señor, te ruego que me ayude en mi momento de necesidad.  P-Por fav-or, en su divina providencia tomar este dolor de mí, p-pa-para que yo no sufra mucho y sanar a hacer su buena obra.” I shook as the prayer came out in stutters.

“What was he saying?” 

“I think he’s praying…”  I eyed the woman as she looked at me first with curiosity and then pity but I knew the pain in my leg was too much as the world darkened.

 

* * *

 

 

I woke up in a room.  It wasn’t the same room I had passed out in as this one was smaller.  There was movement to my right and I looked to see that demon again.  No, not demon as he said.  He was sweating as he lifted something.  If I didn’t hear the water dripping I wouldn’t have known what he was doing.  And then he tried to scrap the dead flesh off with it. 

I must have made a sound because he was looking at me, concern and pity so very evident.  I hated pity.  I didn’t need to be pitied.  I could take care of myself, except of course now when I needed help.  But do not pity me because I will not break. 

“Do you still feel pain?” He asked me.  I figured if the man _was_ a demon he would have tried to possess me by now or challenge me to a duel via fiddle.   _Idioto_ , that’s the devil. 

“What’s a devil?”

Oh shit had I said that out loud?

“Yes.”

I groaned and made to sit up but he stopped me. “Yes, I still feel pain.” My throat was raspy a bit but nothing I couldn’t handle.  Still the man… Anders handed me a wooden cup with water.  I smelled it first and then drank.  There are numerous poisons you couldn’t taste or smell but what the heck, I was thirsty.  “Though, that might have something to do with the migraine currently pounding away behind my eyes.”

A cool hand touched my forward.  I was tense and then I saw that glowing hand again.  I _wanted_ to push it away but the relief that flooded me was intense and I moaned. 

“ _Ay dios mío.”_ So it’s a healing demon?  No.  That wouldn’t make sense.  Angels healed. Given the fact he was trying to tend to my leg and he glowed light and didn’t produce shadows like my mother always said demons did, then perhaps he was an angel? 

Or I could just push all religious thoughts aside and just assume there is some really amazing tech in place.  Yes.  Science is much more sound and reliable and easier to understand.  It’s just probably a new tech that involved transplanting rejuvenating energy through the epidermis or something.  We’ve got it for glass and charging things with solar energy why not for humans too? 

I cracked a smile.  Now doesn’t that sound like a load of _mierda_. I coughed to the side as the hand moved away and the man, Anders looked absolutely flummoxed.  His hands then went back to my leg where the same glowing shit happened.

“That’s odd.” 

“What is?” I shifted to sit up and he let me, apparently too busy in his head.

“When you gave me that little magic boost I could feel the fade, like it was standing right there and flowing into me making my magic that much…. The only word I can use in this context is well _more_.”  Anders looked at me like I might understand but I was stuck on the one word he just said.

You’ve got to be shitting me.  This guy believed in magic. What is he _five_?

“Aren’t you a bit old to believe in magic?”  I laughed despite a tremor going up my leg.  Anders’ brows rose at me. 

“What did you think this was?”  His hands glowed again and I shrugged. 

“Transdermal energy meant to rejuvenate muscle tissues, stimulating natural regenerative processes in the body.  I figured you had an apparatus or some type of glove.  I know the military has some pretty advanced tech to help soldiers out but I never thought a bunch of… well actually what kind of ship am I on?”  I could tell I had thoroughly confused him with my tech speak.  A lot of people I work with know not to get me started on new technology that was coming out.  Being an engineering student has its perks when you get prototypes to test, especially with a father who works for the CSIS.   

Essentially, I get cool gadgets to try now and then and my father is a nut for safety and precautions.  Nowhere near as paranoid as his friends in the states though.  Those guys, when they get paranoid, they get _really_ paranoid.  Thankfully though my father always made sure his kids were well prepared in case of emergencies but only just. Speaking of, I should see if I can get to my bag.  I have a satellite phone in there. 

Anders seemed to snap out of his confusion when he realized I had asked a question. 

“We’re on the Siren’s Call, Cap-“ Anders smiled tersely but continued. “ _Admiral_ Isabela’s ship.  She’s the captain of this ship and is a Raiders, as are the rest of the crew.  Not me, though.”

“So like pirates?” I leaned forward.  Pirates.  If they were, then fuck.  My sat phone and anything I had in my bag was probably fucked, either sold already or broken. I must have shown some kind of worry because Anders raised his hands.

“Isabela is a friend.  I doubt she’d hurt you given it was her decision to ’fish’ you out of the water.  Plus if we had planned on hurting you, I doubt me sitting here healing you would have helped that effort.” Yeah, except it could be your way of endearing me to you.   I’ve seen the prisoner of war films, heard the stories and testimonies.  Psychological and emotional manipulation is subtle and deadly.    

“How long was I out?”

“Two days since you fell unconscious-“

“TWO DAYS?”  I started to get up but he moved forward pushing me back down when my leg seized, shaking with pain.  “I’ve been out two days, laying here and nothing’s been done for my leg?”

“That’s what I was trying to tell you earlier.  When you gave me a boost to magic I could sense you then.  But when I tried to heal your leg, the magic just wouldn’t well stick.”  He settled me back into bed. 

Ooooh-kay.  Pirates, this guy is probably a native of some island or settlement who came into washed up military tech and he’s calling it magic.  I’d read somewhere that highly advanced technology is almost indistinguishable from magic. 

“Right…. Right. This _magic_ , it’s not sticking.  Meaning you tried to use it on my leg and it’s not working.  Okay.  I got that part.  But…”  I may have used a patronizing tone but he merely gave me an eye roll. 

“I healed your migraine easy and I can sense you, like any other living being or thing.  You’re there, very there.  Though the fade has touched you somehow so I can sense you without even trying to.  However your leg.  When I try to heal you, your leg feels like it’s already dead, like it doesn’t exist.”  He used his fancy glowing hand thing again and I watched as it seeped into my exposed raw pink leg.  If it was supposed to do something it didn’t. 

“Okay.”  Apparently that was not the reaction he expected. 

“Don’t you understand?!  All things react to magic somehow. The fact that your leg doesn’t… that’s very bad.  It’s not healing and it’s not responding-“

“Have you tried, you know the good ole fashioned way? Clean it up, slap some medicinal ointment on and bandage it up?  Cause even with fancy ‘magics’ it does take time to heal a burn like that.” 

“Yes, that is what I was doing.”  He looked so mournful, so sorrowful like I’d just kicked his puppy or something.  Or cat.  He looked like a cat person. 

“Okay then.  No harm.  No foul.  Just uh… yeah bandage it up.  I’ll roll over and be aight.” I leaned back, despite the pain wracking my leg. 

Anders sighed deeply but he retrieved what looked like some ratty gauze and began wrapping my leg. It was a process and a half because I had to hold my leg up so it could go around and then he tied it off.  It was still painful, my leg twitching at any movement but it was better than keeping it exposed to the elements with possible infection on the rise, assuming it wasn’t already infected of course. 

Anders left me alone in the room, though I could barely move so there was no chance of me escaping.  The two candles in the room provided little light and I could barely take stock of what was in here.  I know I lay on the only bed, though that is a loose term for a couple of blankets over a wooden slab.  There was a bundle of blankets as well on the floor opposite me, what looked like a small copper pot to one corner. There was also a stack of books, a feather and some sort of ink bottle. 

He came back with two bowls and bread.  The smell was not the best but I felt my stomach growl once I got a whiff of it. 

“Hungry?” 

“Ravenous.”  I grabbed the bowl and peered at its contents.  “Thanks.”  I paused and immediately felt I needed to apologize for a few things.  “Listen, I’m sorry for calling you a demon earlier.  Seeing someone’s hands glow like that suddenly.  I was irrational.  I guess I inherited old religious fears from my mother.”

“You don’t have to apologize.  Many would have acted as you did. Magic isn’t exactly looked favorably on right now.  Nor is it well educated about, so many fear it when they see it.”  His eyes spoke of personal experience, volumes of it.  

“That doesn’t excuse me.  Just because I don’t understand it doesn’t mean I should fear it or hate it.  Typically once someone understands that, it’s easier to begin learning about it, to become educated on the subject.  One shouldn’t live in fear of the unknown.”

“The masses would disagree with you.”

“The masses are fucking idiots. Their fears coming together into one clusterfuck of ignorance and stupidity.” Based on Ander’s expression I could tell he was surprised at my response.  “Oh… my mother would be ashamed of me.  My name is Remigio Moreno.  But please, call me Remy.” I held my hand out to him and he shook it.

“Anders.” 

That was it?  What is he Madonna?  Well… maybe with a shave and a skirt. I shrugged as I sniffed at the stew and couldn’t distinguish what it was.  I slurped the stew and almost gagged at the taste.  Fish.  I’m not _fond_ of fish.  “Ugh…”  I crinkled my nose but gulped it down. 

“What is it?”

“I don’t want to seem ungrateful but… as someone who grew up in port towns, it was always fish… fish.  And more fish.”  I put the bowl down and shredded into the bread.  I looked at Anders who was looking at me amused, a smile twitching at his lips.  “What?”

“You just remind me of someone, he hated fish too.”

“A friend of yours?”

“Not exactly.  We didn’t ever get along but we had a… mutual friend in common.”  He handed me another cup of water, which I drank greedily and thanked him, manners coming back to me as I no longer had a low blood sugar.  “But you both have very different views on magic.”

Like a broken record, magic this.  Magic that.  I shrugged nonchalantly. 

“Am I allowed my bags?”  He nodded, getting up and headed toward the end of the bed I lay on.  My bag which was, thankfully still closed and then the woman’s bag.  “Fuck… she’s probably dead.” 

“Who is?” Anders looked at me sharply as he sat down on the only chair in the room. 

“Was there a woman with me?”  At the shake of his head I sighed.  “Yeah… she’s probably dead.  We both went overboard in the storm, only she didn’t have a life vest.  _Pendeja_.  At least I’ll be able to notify her next of kin.”

“Life vest?” I lifted the orange and deflated plastic that hung over me.  “What does it do?”

“Serious? Well it’s inflated with air so we float in the water without having to swim.  It comes with a ration of food and a beacon so rescue crew can find us.  But the batteries only last twenty four hours once the vest is inflated. After that we have to rely on our emergency equipment. In the boat.  I hope everyone else is okay, especially Marianna.”  I shook my head as I opened my bag.  My bag was waterproof but sitting in an ocean is bound to compromise it. 

Thankfully I had the forethought to stick almost everything I had in sealed bags, the only thing I bemoaned being water damaged was the vacuum sealer.

I could feel Anders watching me as I pulled out each bag and set them on my lap.  I had two change of clothes and fours pair of underwear each in a vacuumed sealed bag to reduce space. I also had a toothbrush, a small tube of toothpaste, floss, a small bottle of soap, condoms, and my reading-computer glasses, which I immediately put on as I pulled my Sat phone out and turned it on. 

I peered at the screen.  No satellite?  That’s…impossible.  “What the fuck.”

“What is it?”

I ignored Anders as I turned the phone off, waited a moment and turned it back on hoping the old IT adage of ‘have you tried turning it off and on again?’ would work.  Nothing.  Maybe because I was below deck? 

“I need to head up, maybe I’ll get a better reception nothing in the way and all that.”  I looked up at Anders who looked at me confused but helped me up as soon as I packed everything away.  I had my bag and the woman’s strapped to me as, I should really find out what her name is… _was_ , as we headed up some stairs.  I wasn’t too proud to accept help, though I was able to pull myself up with just my upper body strength, I still needed help walking without putting pressure on my leg. 

“I need a cane.” 

Anders thought it funny but he helped me to the top part of the ship.  Everything was wooden with metal accents. The crew wore raggedy clothes and leathers.  What the hell kind of pirates were these?  Pirates of the Caribbean?  I snorted as I saw the helm, the woman whom I knew now was Admiral Isabela.  I took a turn toward her and she regarded me with a raised brow. 

“Feeling better, kitten?” 

“Yes.  Thank you.”  I was unfazed by the kitten part, instead I held my hand out to her.  “I’m Remy Moreno.  I apologize for my earlier rudeness toward your friend Anders.  It was unconscionable of me.”  She shook my hand.

“Well, so long as Anders is alright with it.  But I may need something from you.”  Her hand trailed up my arm.  Well… I.  _Well_. Call me flattered. 

“Isabela…really? He’s _still_ injured.”  Anders stepped up incredulous of her.

“I’m sure we can work around that.”  Came her reply with a wink at me. “What brings you up on deck?”

“He needs to use his…”  Anders looked to me. “I’m still not quite sure what that is.”

“It’s a sat phone.”  At their blank expressions, I leaned against the wooden railing, putting weight off my leg.  “A satellite phone?  It lets me hail down rescue efforts so they can find me easier.” 

“Like a smoke signal?”

“Kind of.” I didn’t feel like explaining it.  “I’ll just… yeah I’m gonna use it now.”  I sank down to the floor, trying to sit as far out of the way as possible.  I could see they both watched me as I fiddled with my phone.  I extended the antennae and tried again, listening in and dialing all the numbers I knew for emergency services anywhere.  And yet, still no satellite connection. 

Sighing, I left it on, hoping with the progression of the ship I might be able to pick up a signal somewhere.  In the meantime, I looked towards the woman’s bag.  I gave a silent prayer that she hadn’t suffered too long and then opened the bag.  The first thing I noticed was that she was equally as paranoid about water.  Everything in here was sealed in water proof vacuum sealed bags, even the vacuum sealer was in its own bag.  Her phone, iPod, camera, everything was secured except one thing which was a long tube of sorts typically used for holding artwork.

I found a bag with a bundle of papers and found passports.  Apparently this wasn’t just the young woman’s bag, but also her companion on the plane.  I found both of their IDs.  “Mercedez E. Bryde.  And Annalise Bryde.” I mumbled. So they were related? Mother and daughter perhaps?

“Who is that?” 

I jumped, seeing Anders now sitting down next to me.  I checked the Sat phone quickly before turning to him.  “She was the woman who died, probably drowned.”  I turned her ID over to Anders and he picked up the card. And held it as though it may break.  

“What is this? This is an amazingly detailed painting.” 

Right… this was _magic_ dude.  He probably has never seen a camera. 

“It’s a picture, taken with a camera.  Here.”  I reached into the woman’s bag and pulled her camera out.  I turned it on and surprisingly it still worked, though given the battery indicator, not for long.  I turned the camera to Anders and took a photo.  I turned it around and showed him and he gaped.

“That’s me!  But how?  And so quickly?”

“It’s a camera.  It takes a picture and displays it there.  And the …well if I had a computer and printer I could print it out as you would see it on paper but no computer, sadly.  I don’t really understand how that works to be honest I know it started with using magnesium and a special paper.  Some sort of chemist could tell you more.”  I waved it off and turned back to the documents.  I noticed a notebook in the bag with the papers. 

“Magnesium?  So you mean like alchemy?  I never thought an alchemist could do this.” 

“Yeah… sure like alchemy.”  _Este hombre_.  I shook my head and placed the camera back as well as the passports.  I checked the sat phone again, nothing.  Was it broken?  Did it get damaged? I didn’t want to fiddle with it in case I did break it. 

We sat there silent for a long time, I looked over to Anders and noted his clothes.  I had noticed they were a bit odd.  Almost like a dress but more like a nightgown like you’d see in A Christmas Carol with a feathery shoulder parts, belts and buckles here and there.  His hair was blonde with just a hint of ginger in it and he was scruffy.  He also looked haggard, tired.  “So.  If you’re not a crew member, what are you doing on here?” 

He visibly flinched at the question.  “I’m here on the insistence of a friend who didn’t want to execute me.”  He hung his head, loose strands of limp hair falling.  He was quite…pretty for a guy. 

Listen to me, ‘for a guy’.  As if that mattered to me.  He was pretty, he just looked exhausted. I can only imagine if he got a decent night’s rest and some good meals, he’d be radiant. 

“Why would he execute you?” 

“I killed hundreds of people.”

I tensed and looked at him.  He did not look like a mass murderer.  In fact it looked like he very much regretted those actions.  “You don’t look like you wanted to.”

“I didn’t.”

“Then why did you?” 

He looked at me from the corner of his eye, regarding me before he told me.  It was a long tale, involved things about magic.  Oppressed mages being ripped from their families and how he tried to get the Grand Cleric to help the mages who were being abused by the templars but it was shut down every time.  And then he blew up a chantry, church? He had been ready to give himself up until his friend, Garrett Hawke refused to let him die and absconded with him from the scene of the crime. 

It was a fantastical tale.  But the gist of it was a corrupt religious organizations somehow justified stealing children who were different, and therefore were dangerous, into a place where they never got to leave.  Raised and taught there but watched over by guards who held all the power and performed… lobotomies on them if they looked to be too dangerous?  And then used the lobotomized ones to make goods for them to sell for the church?

Call it whatever you want but that is forced and false imprisonment and slavery no matter how you paint it. But… it sounded really fantastical with all this magic business and I was hesitant to believe him, if not for the way others around us side stepped around him.  Was he a mage?  Was he also feared?  Well he was also a renegade on the run. 

He kept looking at me, nervously.  Was he scared I’ll behave like the crew, skirt around him?  Well so far the only dangerous thing he has done was the glowing hand trick.  And that… well that wasn’t all that scary.  Ooh yeah he glows, that’s soo scary.   He looked about to say something but I beat him.

“I need to take a piss.” 

 

* * *

 

 

A chamberpot, that’s what that copper pot had been.  Why bother when you can just piss off the side of the ship?  Wasn’t surprised they didn’t have a toilet room.  The ship was made of wood for fuck’s sake.  I stopped expecting the typical facilities of a ship at that.

I wasn’t back in the bed yet because Anders was helping me toward to the Admiral’s quarters.  I had a thought you see, while emptying my bladder. 

If the Sat phone wasn’t working, then my next option, get the good Admiral to drop me off at the nearest and largest port and I’ll find a Canadian or American embassy and contact home.  Especially for my leg, maybe even get to a hospital and get _proper_ treatment. 

Anders knocked as I mustered the strength to walk in by myself, the ginger hovering close.  Once in I noticed Isabela was leaning over a large map, her leather jacket off leaving her in the best one piece dress, or was it a shirt, I had ever seen.  It clung to her curves and left barely anything to the imagination. Especially because she wasn’t wearing a bra. 

Double Nice.

“Yes?”

“Remy.”

I saw her smirking when she noticed where I had been looking and she crossed her arms, under her breasts making them pop up and out. 

“At the next largest port you stop at, I was thinking I might be left there to see if I can contact my family and get, proper care for my leg.  No offence, Anders.”

“None taken.” 

“You want to get off at the next port?  How will you walk?  You can barely manage to stand now.”  A fair point Isabela. 

“That’s my second favor.  I hate incurring debt to anyone but I thought you might have a cane, or… a walking stick of sorts so I can walk unaided.”  We held eye contact for a minute, maybe more. “I will pay you back somehow.”  I lifted one eyebrow to get my point across.  Her smirk grew wider at that. 

“Well… you’re in luck.  I do have a walking stick.”  She walked around to one of her chests and rummaged and brought a very gaudy looking wooden walking stick with snakes carved into it. It was about my height. 

“May I shave it and cut it down?”

“By all means.” 

“Thank you, again.  I am grateful for your kindness.”  I went to turn to leave but turned back.  “Where is the next port anyway?”

“Ostwick.”  At my confused expression she pointed to the map in front of her. I hobbled closer and peered at the map.  The land masses unfamiliar, the coasts strange to me, and most of all the text completely foreign. 

What?  

There was text of sorts under each in what looked like Latin.  I leaned forward and read those.  I could read that, somewhat. Yet this all boiled down to one fact.  I didn’t recognize anything on the map. 

I considered myself well versed in geography, I could point out Nigeria on a globe with ease, could tell you the nations you were looking at based on the coast line.  But this, none of this was familiar. 

Isabela pointed to the one city.  “We’re about here, it will take four days to get there, assuming the wind is with us and we get no interruptions.”  She pointed to a spot along a coastline known as – I squinted – the Coastlands.  Well that’s redundant. 

“Hmm.  Yeah that’ll… do.”

“What do you need in Ostwick?” Anders asked. 

“I have a friend that needs a little help with a…problem.”

“A friend? Is it Ze…”

I tuned them out, examining the map even more trying to find something familiar.  Even the ocean was unfamiliar and it was expansive.  I didn’t even recognize the mountains or the rivers or the lake, although the lake in this… Fereldan land looks a bit like a bunny. 

Like I said, I consider myself well versed in geography and a land mass this big would be known to many of the nations.  Even lands the American military or the royal army haven’t been to, are known.  Places like islands with dangerous natives are at least observed from afar.

This didn’t make any sense. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should note, my Spanish is rusty, VERY rusty. So if someone more fluent in it wants to correct me, by all means. I welcome the chance to improve my language skills. Also the proper punctuation is not being used because I'm really lazy and I can't remember the alt keys to press for the upside down question mark and exclamations. 
> 
> **TRANSLATIONS** :  
>  _Hijueputa! Qué hiciste?!_ \- Son of a whore! What did you do?!  
>  _Flaco_ \- Skinny 
> 
> _Por favor. Oh Señor, te ruego que me ayude en mi momento de necesidad. Por favor, en su divina providencia tomar este dolor de mí, para que yo no sufra mucho y sanar a hacer su buena obra_ -  
>  Please, Oh Lord, I beseech thee to help me in my time of need. Please, in your divine providence take this pain from me, so that I may not suffer long and heal to do your good work.
> 
>  _Idioto_ \- Idiot  
>  _Ay dios mío_ \- Oh Lord  
>  _Pendeja_ \- Moron/Stupid  
>  _Mierda_ \- Shit  
>  _Este hombre_ \- This guy
> 
> As time goes on the Spanish is going to be used less, it will however pick up whenever a certain ex-Crow is around or if Remy ever meets Josephine Montilyet, so look forward to that. 
> 
> The prayer was given to me by a friend. I'm not Christian but faith and religion is very important FOR and TO Remy so if you're uncomfortable with the occasional prayer or quoted bible verse, you should know there will be more in the future. I am by no means going to be making fun of Christianity or Catholicism or any religion, except maybe Andrastian, in this piece so not to worry. The remark toward "old religious fears" is just something another friend of mine said about his mother who DOES believe in demonic possession which is where I got the idea that Remy would have a minor freak out about demons before rationalizing it because he grew up with it.
> 
> * * *
> 
>    
> Okay what did you guys think? I was originally going to go a bit longer for this chapter but I quite like where I did ended it and it fits well. Sadly not much action in this chapter. I wanted to get the tone set up a bit and show how Remy reacts to being a fish out of water. 
> 
> The similarities between Remy and Fenris about "fish fish... ugh fish" was VERY much intentional. Mostly because I'm the same way. Seriously, don't ever give someone who grew up in a port or bay town fish. They will wrinkle their nose and grumble about "gdi fish again?"
> 
> If there are any grammatical errors or spacing problems, please let me know.


	3. El Guerrero

The sweat trickled down my spine and shoulders as I lowered myself to the floor.  My knees pressed to the wood floor as my elbows bent.   Handstand push-ups would be ideal, regular push-ups would be better but all I could do were these. It was better than nothing, I just made sure to do triple what most would do as there was less strain this way. 

The exercise was necessary if I was going to be immobile for a while and potentially going through physical therapy for my leg, I’d need as much upper body strength as possible. Walking with a cane was cumbersome as I’ve learned. 

Once the walking stick was cut to my height and whittled to be a tad smoother for my grip, I learned the hard way how to distribute weight.  It didn’t help I didn’t have my sea legs just yet.  So Anders hovered nearby.  Not that I minded, he at least gave me space when I felt crowded or annoyed.  But again, upper body strength was going to be essential.  I knew that much and while I did have quite a bit as it was, I’d need more.

I let out a slow breath as I pushed myself up and held aloft just as the door to the room opened.  I managed to look up as Anders entered and near dropped the bundle of food he had. 

“What are you doing?!”  He yelped as I once again lowered down.

“Exercising.”  I smirked at him but he pulled me up. 

“No.  No.  Decrease your movement, I can only fight off the infection in your blood for so long.”  Anders pulled me off my hands.

“I’m sorry what?”  I gaped at him. 

“Your leg is suffering from some infection, it could spread to the blood.  I’ve been ensuring it doesn’t.”  Anders snapped at me, pushing me back down to the bundle of blankets I had claimed was my bed, to his chagrin. 

“Shit.  I’m not a doctor, you should have told me.”  I muttered. 

“I would have thought it obvious.”  He said sternly as his hand went to my leg, glowing.  I wasn’t used to it, and the feeling wasn’t exactly unpleasant, I just didn’t like not knowing what it _was_ exactly. Sometimes, I’ll catch myself, staring at Anders as he did his thing, wondering perhaps if it was magic.  But that thought was cast aside as soon as it surfaced.  I had no time to think of such crazy things, I wasn’t a child anymore.

Anders’s brows were furrowed as he worked, checking my leg and lifting the bandages. He was at the very least a dedicated “healer” and knew how to take care of his patients well.  I admired him for that. 

“Thanks.”  I leaned back against the wall, watching as Anders looked up at me.  His cheeks flushed when he took in my appearance. I quirked an eyebrow at him, amused, and flexed my arms and pecs just a tad.  I watched his eyes take me in and then he was swallowing hard and getting up, grabbing the food he had brought it.  He was too easy to fluster but it was so much fun, given our close quarters.  “What’s on the menu?”

“Fish stew.”  Anders gave me an apologetic look at he held out the wooden bowl.  “But, I did manage to procure…”  He pulled a small tennis ball sized orange from a robe pocket and held it out. “An orange for the both of us.”  This was good at least.  I’d hate to develop scurvy.

Once the stew was eaten, with me pinching my nose to swallow it down, I pulled my bag closer and puled the woman, Mercedez’s journal out.  It’s only been two days since I woke up on the ship but I at least wanted to give the woman a proper send off.  Who knows if her family knew she was most likely dead. So I read her journal, sometimes out loud to Anders if I found certain parts noteworthy or funny.  Other parts I had to explain certain things. 

The other papers in her bag were mostly legal work.  Her flight tickets, hotel provisions in Brazil, those sorts.  But the journal was something rather personal.  She only wrote in it when she was either “ecstatic” or in a slump of depression.  If I didn’t know any better, and the fact the dates between entries were so far apart, I’d say she was manic depressive but lots of people have no reason to write in their journals except during extreme emotions. 

“Can you play more of the music?”  Anders was intrigued by our technology.  Who wouldn’t be considering the squalor and primitive environment he most likely grew up around.  But he was most taken with the woman’s ipod, which if I were in his shoes was pretty amazing.  He also liked our camera as well but that was going to die so I had to keep that shut off.

I fished out the ipod.  I had set it to the lowest settings possible in everything to preserve the power and then clicked shuffle.  The late Mercedez had an odd assortment of music from classical to the latest pop to some… off the wall music I’d never heard of.  But she had thousands of soundtracks.  Of what, I didn’t know.  I only knew they must be games because I saw titles like Skyrim, Halo, and Call of Duty amongst the names which were all pretty famous even for someone like me that doesn’t play video games.

Anders slipped one earbud on and listened to what came next.  He couldn’t read what was on the display, even though it was in plain English and we were speaking English. 

I flipped the page in the journal. 

_She died today.  Good riddance.  Dad had expected me at the funeral but after everything she’s done, to him… to us, to Sissy.  I couldn’t.  And what she did to that family.  I’ll never forgive her. Anna convinced me though._

Drama.  I frowned and skipped ahead.

_I got a new regular requesting me.  It was interesting.  He tips really well. Marge says not to get too attached.  These business types come here for short bursts before their wives accuse us of doing things untoward.  Even though we’re a legit massage business, we still have the stigma of other locations that offer “happy endings.”_

I turned the page but the ship rocked, jostling me out of my musings and Anders as well.  We looked at each other and he pulled the earbud out of his ear and handed me the device. 

“What was that?”

“Shh.”  Anders stood up and turned to the sole window of the room.  The porthole was a little higher than I could reach, even if I could stand without the use of a cane.  Anders was peeking out of it by standing on his tip toes. I turned the ipod off.  “Oh no.”  Anders crouched and chewed his lip. 

“What is it?” I made to get up but Anders pushed me back down when we heard heavy hurried footsteps and yelling from above. “What was that?”  I hissed toward my caretaker and he shushed me, placing a finger over my lips as he listened. 

The silence between us allowed me to strain and there was a faint clashing of metal on metal. 

“I have to go help.  You stay here and don’t come looking for me.” Anders was moving forward, silent and tense.  He grabbed his staff on his way out and didn’t look back. 

Was the ship under attack?  I checked my sat phone.  Still no signal, nothing.  I turned it off and hid it.  Could it be rival pirates? No… raiders of some kind that didn’t like Admiral Isabela? Was there in fighting? 

Wait. 

Or could it be officials? 

If it was officials like a coast guard, or the navy I could go with them!  Get proper care for my leg and even contact my family.

I was scrambling up, with some difficulty what with my leg but I did manage to get the cane under me to help me stand.  Leaning against the wall I used my good leg to push up with the cane and I slid up the wall into an upright position with minimal pain.  Then I grabbed my bag, with intent to prove my identity in case they were arresting the pirates on board.

As carefully as I could, I ventured out.  There was a lot of noise coming from above deck when it stopped. Shit I hope I didn’t miss my chance.

The stairs up proved to be a challenge, as I didn’t have Anders helping me but I slowly made my way up.  The resounding thud of my cane probably alerting everyone on deck of my presence. But I ambled up, the sunlight streaming when a sword gave me pause.  It was held in front of me from behind. 

The shove they gave me let me know to keep moving forward and I did slowly.  Apparently too slowly for when I reached the deck, they shoved me forward again, sending me sprawling.  There was laughter as I gripped the cane to remain at least off my face.

“A cripple? Incredible, you must be the worst Raiders to have a _cripple_ on board _._ ”  A French accented voice sneered from above and I peered up at him.  A man wearing an overly ornate iron mask with feathers and the clothes he wore were heavy, rich and embellished with embroidery and what looked to be lion heraldry.  White, black, blue and just a tad of gold.

A hand gripped my arm and yanked me off the floor, only for me stand as straight as I could on one leg, towering over the short French man.  He took a step back and I can only see a glare from his eyes as they watched me.  “Get with the rest of them.”  He roughly pushed me, or attempted to, toward where Isabela, Anders and the rest of the crew were being held at sword point. Anders was hidden behind a line of crew.  I made my way over, slowly with my cane when one of the similarly dresses men kicked the cane out from under me sending me sprawling again.  My bag fell and another snatched it up.  They didn’t bother with the zipper and instead cut it open.  My wallet and papers spilling everywhere but they dumped it out on the deck and when they didn’t find what they were looking for, they took to examining the paper.  Many of them scoffing and tossing them on the ground. 

These were not the navy.  They were not friendly especially if they didn’t even bother to look at my visa or even question me.  Instead they immediately treated me like a criminal.

Even if I was still in the Caribbean, Haitian pirates didn’t dress anywhere near as decadent as these men.

I growled as I once again attempted to get to my feet, the cane being the only thing keeping me up but instead, I remained on my knees.  I waited, looking toward Isabela.  From this angle I could see her pulling a dagger from under her shirt, behind her back.  The men watching over her didn’t even notice.  She caught my eye and winked.

I didn’t have much time to react as the dagger went flying into the closest captor, Isabela quick to grab his sword.  A great big clap of thunder sounded and lightning came raining down strategically at many of the men in the fancy get ups.

“Apostate!” The one who’d called me a cripple shouted but he was struck down, falling over. 

The lightning came from a misty green cloud that hung over our heads that grew denser and denser toward…toward…Anders.  His arms outstretched upward and his staff glowing and lightning coming directly from his staff and hands.

My mouth gaped open as the lightning quickly changed to fire as the rest of the crew pushed forward and outward.  Taking the others by surprise as they tried to get up.

I didn’t have much time to react as I felt a sword ring through the air near me and barely was able to scramble on my knees and avoid the brunt of the attack, turning over and eyeing the masked man hacking at me. 

My eyes quick to take in what was covered by metal and what wasn’t.  I’d have to be quick.

I centered my weight and drew my knees to my chest, rolling on my back and propelling my body and legs up allowing me to kickstand up, only it was sloppy and I toppled forward into my attacker.  His sword caught in my grip as I wrestled for control of it. Blood dripping from my sliced hand. 

“Fucking let go, puto.” I growled as I practically leaned into him.  My head slammed against the side of his, causing us both pain but his mask went flying and I did it again and he slumped backwards, bringing me down with him.  I pulled the sword up above our heads as I knead him in the groin and rolled away.

Adrenaline pumping through me as I pulled myself to my knees once again.  Turning and slicing the back of the knees of the nearest attacker and then smacking with my other hand at the exposed area I knew one of his kidneys to be.  My open palm slapping against their cloth repeatedly in quick succession, each time was met with a grunt until he went down and the crewmember looked to me thankfully but I was already moving, eyeing the wild fray of fighting. 

I wasn’t even sure why I was engaging in the fight outside of my own self-preservation.  These men had already assumed me a criminal.  Yet the so called criminals, the raiders or pirates had treated me far better.  Though to be frank I could attribute that to Anders, he seemed like a decent fellow.

Speaking of. 

My eyes drew toward him and he was now using his staff, icicles bursting forth from the ends and piercing right through enemies.  How?

How was that even _possible_?

I lunged forward, avoiding a booted kick and rolled into a handstand, bringing my bum leg around to kick the person in the face.  I felt my leg explode in pain at the impact and toppled down.  I cringed awaiting the impact against the floor, ready to roll away but my stomach was yanked from me and I went flying into some barrels along with three others. 

“Fuck me…” I grunted as my leg seized to my joint and I found it difficult to even prop myself up with the blood from my hand. I ripped a strip of my polo shirt and tied it quickly to my hand as the others around me went back to fighting. 

The source of what sent me flying drew my eye.  That same green mist that surrounded Anders surrounded this woman as she came stomping toward those of us by the barrels. Her staff lit with fire. 

_How was that wooden staff not burning to a crisp?_

The woman sent fire raining at us in what I could only describe as a fireball.  It hurtled toward us.  Was she mad? She was going to burn the entire ship down! I yelped and tried to move out of the way but was caught in the flames.  The scream already present on my throat yet the only pain was in my leg. 

The licks of fire sunk into me, into my skin, warming me but not damaging me.  Instead it seemed the fire came toward me, directed right at me as though a great vacuum was sucking the oxygen right out.  I felt a tingle across my nerves as the flames disappeared and I looked up at the woman, who looked shock and sent another fireball.  And another. 

Each one completely aimed at me and seemed to fill me more with that tingling, a buzzing energy making me forget the throbbing pain in my thigh as I managed to stand up. 

I went for her legs.

We struggled and grappled on the floor but she clearly had the advantage and managed to keep me down with her staff. 

She spit in my face. 

I scratched at hers, digging my nails in the right side of her face.

The vacuum feeling was back, only tenfold.  Like when I touched Anders, instead of pushing, I was pulling.  I was pulling the woman in and she was screaming.  Her eyes wide as the green film surrounded my hand and she was thrashing against me, trying to get me to let go. 

Whatever it was I was doing, she didn’t like it.  I gripped onto her, bringing her closer.  There was a building heat inside of me as her staff lit up with more fire but it disappeared. 

When she went limp against me I pushed her off and rolled away.  I sprung up, barely registered my leg snap under me as I pushed toward the sail beam and leaned against it and right in the fray of moving, fighting bodies. 

The tingling and heat was everywhere, all over me and I felt like I could fight for days, even with my leg as it was.  I looked around and pushed off toward another ornately dressed man.  Not caring his daggers sunk into my arm, I yanked them out as we fell down to the deck, only for a hand to pull me up by the scruff of my shirt and yank me back and away. 

“Remy, I told you to stay downstairs.” Anders hissed at me but I looked at him. 

“I-had-a-thought-see-I-thought because you guys-you guys-are pirates-right?-so I thought whoever was here-would-help me out.” I said in one breath excitedly and Anders glowing hands were getting to work on the slices and cuts along my torso, the blood staining my remaining BlueJet standard uniform polo shirt.  I eyed it.  “WhendidIgethurt?” I rushed out and then Anders was touching me and he was doing that thing.  The thing he does with his hands and there was that vacuum, but Anders was the vacuum.   I was losing energy and it was going right into him, only it felt… well it _felt good._   I groaned and fell against him, shaking and then Anders was setting me down. 

“What did you do?” Anders looked alight, his eyes wide and that green mist surrounded him again, only it made him glow.

“I don’t really know.”  I muttered.

“Keep doing it, I don’t have any lyrium potions left.”  Anders touched me, skin to skin and I grunted as I felt myself empty.  Exhaustion slamming against my eyelids. He must have left me there because the agonizing throbbing in my leg became worse in his absence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Translations**  
>  El Guerrero - Warrior, Fighter
> 
> * * *
> 
> There is a reason I didn't chose "luchador" for the chapter title as hilarious as that would have been.
> 
> I'm back with this story because I've reached the point in the timeline in "Maker Have Mercy" where I now have an established timeline of when certain things happen so I can now keep the discrepancies to a minimum.


	4. De Sangre

“Ugh.” 

Okay.  I needed to take a moment. 

I prided myself in being a rational man.  Sure I grew up in a highly religious household but one can have faith and still be rational.  The two are not opposites, where you can be one and not be the other.  I could think through this.

“Madre de dios.”  I hissed as Anders’s hands glowed, a heat surging over the slices along my back.  My shirt had been torn and I sat there on deck feeling him heal me.  There were dead bodies of what I’ve learned were Orlesian Officials from the empire’s royal navy.  One of which was a woman, or a mage as Isabela had called her, I helped kill.

Mage.  Not Magician. _Mage._

Witch.  Wizard.  Warlock. Sorcerer. _Bruja_. However you wanted to call it, essentially someone who could wield and use magic.

Or so they told me.  But that woman wasn’t the only one.  Anders was one as well. 

I shook my head.

Rational.  Take it in stride.  There had to be a way to explain this. 

I just couldn’t think of it right then especially as my leg pulsed in pain.  Yes.  I couldn’t think properly, couldn’t find a way to explain this because I was distracted.  My mental faculties were occupied and I couldn’t think of a perfectly scientific reason for this… _magic._

“It can’t be magic.”  I grunted once again as a knife was yanked from my back, clattering to the floor and then a heat was there as the blood stopped flowing, quickly followed by a bandage. There just couldn’t be magic.  There… couldn’t be.

“I know it can be a lot to take in.”  Anders pulled me from my thoughts, making me flinch.  “But I assure you I don’t mean you any harm.”

“Que?” I snapped my head toward him, turning and eliciting a hiss as the last of the daggers dug in more.  I hadn’t even realized I’d been punctured that many times.

“My being an apostate, but surely you had…some idea?” Anders pulled the last of the daggers out and I frowned up at him. 

“What does that have anything to do with this? I don’t care if you renounced your old beliefs… that’s your business.”  I grunted again as the last of the bandages were wrapped around me. 

So there was the slight chance magic was real, that didn’t mean I was going to let it stop me from receiving some modicum of care from the ”healer.”  He’d been taking care of me thus far.  And just because he could summon fire, ice, and lightning at his fingertips didn’t change who he was.  He was still the Anders who was a good caretaker and while admittedly easy to fluster, was a good man.  He just happened to have-

I needed another word for this.

“No… I.  Apostate means a mage who has left the circle, an illegal mage.  A rebel mage.  Wanted by the Templars.”  Anders finished bandaging me and then turned toward my leg, where he once again attempted to heal it. 

 _Templars._   The next thing this man would be talking about would be the Illuminati, I’m sure.  But he didn’t.  Instead his hands glowed and I paid closer attention. There wasn’t any apparatus, no glove.  It was just his raw skin and then a green film that turned blue.  I frowned as the blue felt warm, rejuvenating from my knee up, but anything below I couldn’t feel it, only pain.

“-they’ll be wanting you too.”  I had zoned out and looked to Anders, confused. “For what you did.  I don’t know exactly but you did but you somehow gave me mana… increased my magic, when you touched me.  I wasn’t bound or limited by how much lyrium I had or how quickly I could recover my mana. But…what I don’t understand is what you did to her.”  Anders pointed to the mage that lay prone on the floor.  “How did you do that?” The healer’s gold brown eyes pierced through me, his hands still touching me.  Skin against skin, almost wanting to feel that surge of energy empty from me and into him 

How _had_ I done that?  I buried my face in my hands and shook my head.  I don’t know.

“Who cares how he did that.  I want to know how you _fought_ like that.  Where’d you learn to fight?”  Admiral Isabela sauntered up looking no worse for wear aside from a few blood splashes on her shirt that she peeked at once and shrugged, like it was no big deal.  The remainder of the crew was cleaning up the dead and looting the frigate that had boarded the Siren’s Call 2. 

Fighting.  Yes.  That I could concentrate on. 

“It’s part of my heritage.  But I couldn’t fight anywhere near as well as I could what with my leg…” I eyed the bandaged, throbbing, and right at this moment, useless limb.   It’s true, capoeira was something my ancestors had used in order to escape slavery.  My great-great-great something grandfather had been a slave and fought to rebel.  My mother had each of me and my siblings learn it, even if it was purely for show.  We weren’t the best but… it was handy when you’re walking down a parking lot in the middle of the night and someone pulls a knife on you.  Sadly, I’ve had to use the skill once or twice and maintain my ability by practicing.

I never had to use it like I had then.  Especially as I had to rely on movement with my hands rather than my feet and was mostly on my knees. 

“So what you’re saying is, even while incapacitated you’re still agile, able to move and duck out of attacks.” Isabela’s eyes brightened.  “You’ve got the makings of a duelist.  Although, you fought more with your hands than with a daggers or swords.”  Isabela was smiling, a mischievousness that seemed always present was now ever more obvious. 

As it turned out, my floundering had provided the necessary distraction for her to take down three Orlesians who had ganged up on her   I had unwittingly fell right onto one and took them out, leaving her able to kill the remaining two.  Not that she couldn’t before but she thanked me.

When the deck was cleared, Isabela was ordering the Orlesian frigate to be taken to some Island called Estwatch by her first mate.  She said something about it being a waste of a perfectly good ship if they torched it. 

I didn’t care so much.  Not even when Isabela presented me with some new trousers, a shirt, and even a leather jacket.  I did take the gifts, if only because I was running out of clothes myself, but I was mute for the next day and a half.  Only grunting to respond to Anders’s normal questions about my leg.  He was tactful and avoided the subjects of what I had done and only attempted to heal my leg a few more times. 

By the time the ship docked in what I learned was the city of Ostwick, the realization was coming to me.  Especially as I hadn’t turned on the sat phone at all. I even turned off every electronic device in my possession, with the desire to preserve their life for as long as possible.  The somber, lung crushing realization making its way through me.  But it didn’t hit full force until I was stepping off the boat and limping with my cane through the docks.

This wasn’t a major port but it was big enough that it was a common stop for trade along the Waking Sea, or so Isabela had said.

All I knew was that I would _not_ find a hospital.  I would _not_ find an American embassy or a Canadian one. I would _not_ find anything that could take me home, or contact my family. 

Unfamiliar coasts, unrecognizable lands, names that were both redundant and telling.  And the very real and very dangerous presence of magic.

I felt my lungs strain as I couldn’t quite breathe but I kept moving.  I limped after Isabela and Anders with difficulty.  My vision darkening until my breath hitched, alerting the two of my predicament. 

 _Magic._ I felt my chest heave, the anxiety and panic settling in.  I tried to keep my wits, to stay rational and most important to stay calm but it compounded against me and I was pushed into a dark alley between two wooden shacks along the docks.  Anders hovered in front of me.  His hand discreetly pushing magic into me but it had no effect and that was the most shocking part.  His magic sunk into me like the fire had.  The healing glow tingling across my skin but doing nothing. 

Why had it worked the first time he healed me?  

“Remy… breathe.”  Anders said next as I collapsed against the side of a shack. 

I wouldn’t see my younger brothers or sisters again.  My madre, my father… my abuela, my city, my country.  All because of the woman I just had a compulsion to help. 

I blamed her.  I was here because of her; because I had to be the nice guy, get her bags and subsequently fall overboard.

But she was dead and I was stranded here, my leg about to fall off and the only people I knew were…criminals.  A pirate and a mass murderer and I was now a killer.  The woman, the mage that had attacked me and fell limp when I touched her.  She’d died by my hands. 

 _Get over it_.  I scolded myself, fists clenching.  At the very least I now was on par with my companions.

“I’m fine.” I grit out.  “You have someone to meet, don’t you? Let’s go.”  I took Ander’s help as I stood once again.  I wasn’t sure why I was accompanying them but I did.

My original plan of using the port to find home vanished as the logic set in around me.  So instead I followed after them, lost and unsure. 

 

My jaw tensed as the docks slowly disappeared behind us and gave way to an unfamiliar city with tall gated walls. The presence of heavily armored knights and the distant remains of a tower gave me pause. Anders explained to me that was a circle tower that held the mages of Ostwick, which explained why Anders was a bit on edge.  There were Templars everywhere as well.  He showed me how to point them out from their insignias emblazoned on their armor and explained their abilities.

“If they knew what you could do… you’d be targeted too.”  Anders explained.

“And what is it exactly that I can do?” I mumbled.  I still wasn’t sure what it was I had done, only that it worked. 

“I’m not sure how, but you’re not a mage and you do not feel like a Templar.  But you somehow absorbed the magic, mana around you.  And the fade…bleeds into you.” He whispered to me as the three of us headed into an area of the city that looked dodgy. The buildings more closely packed, with darkened alleyways even under the high sun.  I spotted quite a number of shady fellows in cloaks and what I thought I saw pointed ears poking out of some hoods. 

I would have asked what he meant by “fade.”  What exactly fades and bleeds into me?   But we had arrived at our location apparently.  Isabela picked the lock and we slipped in.

“What’s that?”  There was shouting and a scuffling. 

We hustled past the first room where a group of people were fighting and one, no two figures were fighting them off.  One I could barely see as he or she slipped in and out of the darkness, daggers and swords flashing.  The other… the other was a mage from the lightning and fire coming out of his staff. 

More fighting. 

Isabela and Anders wasted no time in joining the fray but I hung back.  I wasn’t in a state to fight.  On the ship I was forced to but here, I could hide and stayed out of the way. 

Anders joined the other mage in the center, their magic blasting away at those that attacked.  Admiral Isabela on the other hand danced between enemies and aided the other light footed one, weaving through the enemies and slitting throats. 

It was amazing to watch and clearly they all knew each other as their attacks were timed perfectly.  They built on each other and used each other’s movements to make them an effective killing squad.  Between magic and daggers the four of them took out the small group of assailants, until more came down the stairs. 

I cowered back into the other room, coming face to face with a man who wore rich clothes, his sandy blond hair tied back with braids and held an ornate staff.  The green mist oozed around him, especially as his eyes looked me up and down a sinister and pleased grin stretching across his face.

“Curious little thing…” Came a deceptively rich and Orlesian accented voice.  My guard would have went up as I’ve not had the most positive experiences with Orlesians thus far but something kept me…calm.  “Ah-ha… no need to get riled up.”  The man gestured out toward where I knew the majority of the fighting was. 

He wanted me to go that way.  I didn’t want to but my body complied, instantly.  My movements were jerky, and a few times I stumbled but I moved toward the fray of fighting, remaining on the outskirts.   The man nearby but shrouded.

What was happening? Why was I just doing what he said?!

“Yes, what a perfect obedient power source you’ll become.”  The voice of the man said as the last of assailants fell to Isabela’s blades.  I could see all four of them now, including the two I didn’t know.

One was a large burly man with a great beard and a streak of red across his nose.  The other was a short man with blonde hair and an odd sort of outfit and billowing black cloak and linked vestments and greaves. That explains why I couldn’t really see him before. 

“You just _had_ to start without us, Garrett.”  Isabela’s voice teased the large man.  They noticed me ambling forward.

“You know me, Izzy.  Can’t sit still for too long.  Looks like we have one more?”  The burly mage turned to me but Anders stopped his arm.

“No, that’s a friend.  This is Remy.”  He introduced me and I turned my gaze to him and his brows furrowed. “Are you-” His eyes went wide and both he and Garrett hissed.  “Blood magic.”  And were wildly looking around, staffs alight with magic and that’s when the Orlesian man stepped out. 

“I have to thank you, for delivering such an unusual being to me.  He’ll most definitely help with my continuation of Quentin’s research.”  The man stepped up, a sharp dagger now present.  “Hold your hand out, thrall.”

My hand was held out and he placed the dagger at my palm.

“Gascard!  You said you had renounced magic!” Garrett faltered in his step forward as I also took a step forward and over to block this Gascard from him.  The dagger pushed into my palm, slicing it open and blood pooled out and down.

“Remy!” Anders cried as my blood drained out of me and onto the floor. I was impassive as I felt weaker and weaker.  My leg collapsed beneath me but I caught myself instinctively with my cane.

I managed just to notice the blood turn black as the green mist swirled around me and Gascard.  It bubbled and things began to rise from my blood, one after another.   Crackling, burning heat and flames burst around me as large fiery creatures clawed their way out of my blood. Their bodies twisted and burnt, bright and hot as they slumped forward all claws, teeth and an amorphous lava and flame body.  

“Yes.”  Gascard laughed and went to slice into me again.  _No!_ I wanted to stop him.  Especially as the green mist became so thick in the air I swear I could drink it.

One of the _things_ turned to him and clawed at him. “No.  Stop it! You are under my command!” There was some Latin chanting from Gascard as he wrested for control of the creature.

Isabela, Anders, Garrett and the blonde were fighting off the other creatures that had been brought forth because my blood.  I could do nothing to help.  This was my fault.  I grit my teeth.  The hold Gascard had on my body was tight but my mind was free; free to worry, to blame, and to grow inexplicably angry at myself.

_Coward.  You should have fought with them._

_You wouldn’t even be in this mess if it weren’t for **her**. _

_You wouldn’t be fighting for your life here if **they** hadn’t brought you. _

_What kind of a healer lets their charge walk right into battle?_

I gasped against the floor, falling over as a wispy figure clambered out of my blood. Its translucent orange body was skeletal in parts and gone in others.  Its dark nonexistent eyes peered at me.  “Hit me…” Its hoarse voice echoed in my head and I punched at it.  My hand sinking into its center and getting stuck.  It felt like mud as my fingers grasped inside of it.

That same tingling feeling sunk into me as it gave a shriek.  I was a vacuum, a black hole sucking it in only it was seeping into my skin and pulling me closer and closer into it.  Fire licked up around me as the thing pressed into me, trying to touch more of my skin.   

Through its translucent form I saw a light, bright and blue.  It shone, it glowed and then the _thing_ was thrown off me.  A cool icy breeze sinking into me and the _thing_ landed behind me.  Yet all I could see was Anders, staff wielded and a great cloud of green and blue surrounding him. His eyes bright blue and glowing and his skin crackling with glowing blue veins and a loud booming voice.  “YOU WILL NOT HAVE HIM!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Translations:**  
>  _De Sangre_ \- From Blood
> 
> Remy's story is a lot more fast pace in revelations. Because.. well It involves Hawke... so shit fucks up way more often and a lot quicker. ALSO Cameo by Gascard DuPuis because in this world Hawke stupidly let him go. I always imagined if you did let him go, he would find a way to continue Quentin's research. And I like to think Varric keeps an eye on everyone Hawke let go out of the goodness of his heart. So this is Hawke tying up loose ends when he found out the blood mage lied in his letter to him and was continuing the research that killed his mother. 
> 
> If you didn't catch it, the other person fighting with Hawke is Zevran so next chapter will involve some Zevran chatting.
> 
> I hope everyone had a good holiday and will have a great New Year!


	5. Cabron

The red and orange wispy creature gave a great roar and lunged for me but I was already scrambling back and away.  A hand grasping my shoulder hefted me up but it was too late.  The creature had already a hold on my bum leg and I gritted my teeth as heat licked up it and around. I tried to kick it away but I barely managed a shove. 

“HE’S MINE!” It roared enraged as Anders smacked it away with his staff, his glowing blue light so bright I had to shield my eyes. Once again, burly hands hefted me up and pulled me far from my blood pools and the demonic wisp. 

“Now now, no need to fight over our new friend.  I’m sure there is plenty to go around.”  Garrett smirked cheerfully as he dragged me further from the fight Anders was engaged in with the demon.  That was all I could call it.  It even turned rabid as Anders kept it at bay until he was blasted back with a burst of fire into some crates and groaned. 

The beast once again lunged for me, gripping my leg and tugging me back.  “I said there was enough to go around!”  Garrett growled and yanked me back a tad too strongly. There was a stretching of flesh, a tearing and then a pop and plop of flesh hitting the floor.  Tears pricked at my eyes as I howled in pain.

“Oh… I didn’t mean _quite_ so literally.”  Garrett said, trying to hold me still as I writhed. 

I didn’t want to look, but the tremors of agony laced up my leg and while I felt some sort of relief, I knew it wasn’t a good kind.   I sagged in despair as my gaze drew to my now torn leg in the grip of the demon a whole five feet from where Garrett had dragged me from. The torn exposed jagged stump of my leg oozing pus and blood all over the dirt floor.  

“What did you do, Hawke?!”  The cloaked one asked and then gave a small disgusted tsk before darting into the fray of the fight.  I barely registered his Spanish accent, more concerned with how I was now down one leg.  My screams and cries for help were silent as Garrett dragged me further away from the fight.

“Oh no.”  Isabela helped Garrett drag me back behind some crates, propping me up.  I might have tried to smack them away, which was why Garrett was holding my arms aloft and hovering over me, trying to reassure me.

“Now, I’m no Anders, but I think I can help you.”  He gave me a cheery smile. 

“That’s not… reassuring.”  I groaned, trying to twist out of his grasp to no avail.

“Izzy, didn’t one of your crew lose a leg that one time with the cetus?  Peggy right?”

“Yes, but he wasn’t called Peggy then.”

“Hah, clever.”

“Who do you think named him.”

“You can always count on Varric for a good nickname.”

“If you two are done, I’m currently bleeding from my stump of a leg.” I snapped at the bantering two while shivering and twitching at each breath and movement on the exposed wound.

“Right, sorry there.”  Garrett smiled and patted my shoulder.  I didn’t like this guy, he was too cheery, too unfazed by all of this.  I really wanted to wring his neck until he was purple in the face.  But I also could not ignore how very nice it was with him hovering over me. 

_Bad bad, shut up brain.  Yes, he is quite a specimen of a man but you could die._   I admonished myself, but anything to distract from the pain would be preferable.  Just not him.

“Anyway, izzy remember how you had to cut the excess flesh.“

“Oh gross Hawke, don’t make me do that.”

“Looks like you’re gonna have to.” 

“Great, and I just cleaned these daggers too.” Isabela gave a sigh and I watched as she pressed one of her daggers into my leg and began carving out flesh.  I thought she’d have to put more pressure but the daggers slid right through me, easily like butter.  That wasn’t a good sign. 

I gaped at her. “What are you doing?!” I tried to fight out of Hawke’s grip.  My leg was just over there! They could just reattach it if they hurried.  I panted, stilling my movements as she continued cutting up the buttery like flesh of my calf.   Limb reattachment would require some medical sophistication.  I slowed my struggling as some form of reason reminded me this was not home, there was no modern medicine and the only modern medicine available was the dinky little first aid kit I had back on the ship. 

“Preparing your leg for a peg leg. Pity, you danced so well before.” Isabela scrunched her nose as she pulled away the infected portions of my leg.  What looked like a bone came away from it and the shattered and torn bone slid out of the chunk of flesh plopping onto the ground turning into a gooey white and pink mass of slime on the ground. “Well that _can’t_ be good.”

“No fucking shit it can’t.  Madre de dios.  What the fuck happened.”  I cried as I turned my head away and I barely managed to keep my stomach from emptying

“Hey, hey, everything is going to be okay.  You’re not dying.”  Hawke drew my gaze from Isabela only for both of us to flinch when Ander’s voice reverberated around the crates.

“HE WILL NOT BE YOURS. HE WILL BE FREE OF YOUR CLUTCHES, DEMON.”

“I want him!  Get out of my way!”  The demon roared.  The roar of fire became louder and then a chilling wind filled the warehouse, ice clinking and cracking before it shattered.  The demon breaking free of his ice cage.

“Well, seems like you have a fan out of Justice, that’s good.”  Hawke once again smiled.

“Who the fuck is Justice?” I gritted my teeth.  Garrett’s amber eyes softened. 

“Oh, Kitten, I’ll explain that later.”  I heard Isabela reassure and then now felt her dagger dig into uninfected flesh.  I shrieked and tried jerk away but Hawke held me still, his chin propped on his hand as he pinned me down easily.  “I think that’s good, at least until Anders is… well Anders again.” 

My breath came out heavy, sweat trickling down as I breathed right into Hawke’s face. I grit my teeth as something poured right onto the fresh wound of my leg.  It stung and I felt very tired. 

“You know, under normal circumstances I’d be making you pant for another reason.”  Hawke quipped with a twinkle in his amber eyes. 

I growled and glowered at him. 

“ _Cabron._ ” I spat at him and actually did spit at him.

“Is that Antivan for kiss me? Because I will if you want me to.  If it’ll help.”  Hawke pursed his lips while using his shoulder to wipe his face, completely unbothered by me.  I wiggled back away from him the moment he let go of my arms. “Woah woah, careful there.  All that wiggling might just excite me. You might have to take responsibility later.”  

I bared my teeth and jerked my head forward to hit him but he pulled away with a chuckle. 

“Feisty.”

“Okay, work your magic.” Isabela switched places with Hawke, but instead of holding me down she straddled my chest and leaned over me.  Her plump bosoms would have distracted me from the pain even a little but then fingers were digging into the exposed flesh of my leg.  “Don’t worry Remy, Papa Hawke will take good care of you.”

“Ha, Papa Hawke.  Okay, Remy was it?  This may hurt a little bit.” Garrett mumbled.  “ _Andraste’s tits_ your leg is fucked.  Sorry sorry.  I’m not a healer this may actually require we wait for Anders.”

There were several pained howls that filled the warehouse and then nothing but the heaving breaths. 

_“Well, everything is dead.”_ Came a voice in Spanish.  I tried to look at whoever spoke but the crates got in the way.

“Where’s Remy?” Came a tired groan.  There was some stumbling and there was Anders, the same green mist around him as he collapsed. “Don’t touch him Hawke, you’re shit at healing.”

“Hey!”

“Well you are.” Anders gave a playful smile and turned to me. 

I may have been suffering from a panic attack and only just realized it as our eyes locked and he murmured something.  Except I was hallucinating as I was sure I was seeing things.  There appeared to be another man, standing pressed close to Anders.  His body was heavily armored and glowed blue and his white eyes gazed at me.  He was also opaque, allowing me to see the cloaked figure as he stepped around.  I flicked my gaze between Anders and the apparition and gaped.

“There is a ghost… standing right behind you.”  I rasped as my breath quickened.

Anders eyes turned blue, cracks in his skin appearing and then disappearing as he shook his head. The man behind him flickered briefly. “Remy… you can _see_ Justice?”

“Is… is that… is that…”  My lips trembled and my voice fumbled as I felt very cold. I was shivering.

“Enough chit chat, he’s getting cold.”  Isabela warned.

“Did you guys even give him a potion?” Anders snapped back as a glass bottle was shoved into my mouth, and a thick concoction flowed down.  “Drink it, it’ll help.” I couldn’t exactly say no even as I swallowed and coughed. 

“I hate to be the one with a sense of urgency but, we appear to be getting some guests very shortly.”  The cloaked man said.

“Is the Siren ready, Izzy?”  Hawke rose as Anders dug fingers into my leg.  I hissed, wanting very much to push him away.  I flinched prepared for the unusual vacuous feeling, but it never came.  Whatever strangeness that used to happen wasn’t happening.  Anders realized this too because he looked up at me, brows furrowed.

“We’d have to make a run for it, but I think my crew can manage.” 

“Right, Anders we have to go.”

“We can’t leave him!” 

“And that’s why I’ll be carrying him, just cover my back?”

“Bandage his leg up.  Last thing we need is for me to slip on blood while running.”

I felt cloth wrap around my leg tightly, barely containing the exposed feeling.  Blood was already seeping through the cloth.  I groaned as my vision became spotty. 

“Just hang on okay Remy.  Soon as we’re on board I’ll fix you right up.” 

“How?”  I mumbled.

I had no say as Garrett hefted me up onto his back and I hung over his shoulder.  I don’t think I had the energy to fight much less grip onto him, but that didn’t seem to be much of a problem given the size of his arms.  I felt more than watched him run, the others following.  The sound of fire and metal against bone fading behind me as the world whizzed past around me.  It almost felt like I was in a car only I could hear the rustle of cloth and metal chain links.

Water swam in my vision and for a moment I could see only dark swirling tendrils reach up to me.  I would have yelped and moved away but they weren’t actually there.  It wasn’t real.   It was a memory; I know it was because the sound of crashing waves and lightning swam around me.

_That idiot! Where had she disappeared to? I swam, struggling only a little thanks to my life vest, trying to find the passenger.  At the very least she can float with me. “MISS!”  I yelled into the storm, my mouth snapping shut before any sea water could get in.  I looked around._

_I had long given up trying to find the lifeboats, knowing the storm had dragged us away too fast for us to make any headway.  The least I can do is float and maybe the signal on my vest would alert a passing ship of my presence._

_“HELP!”  A frightened scream drew me.  I could see her, flailing in the water, clutching at her carry on as it barely managed to float. Her head was barely above the water.  That was not good.  She was drowning._

_“HOLD ON!”  I tried swimming to her against the waves as they crashed over us.  My legs propelling me forward. I was at the very least a powerful swimmer but if the waves drew me just below the surface, I would not be able to help her.  But I reached her despite the crashing waves.  I spit the ocean water out every chance I got despite panting. “Grab onto me.”  I rasped,, trying tp pull her grip from her carry on to me.  Her mouth and eyes barely above water._

_Lightning struck above us, lighting the ocean below us briefly, or it would have.  The ocean below us was nothing but a murky darkness.  I’d never been more terrified of the ocean._

_“You have to stay afloat!” I yelled over the roar of the storm.  “Kick your legs, move!”_

_“I-I can’t…”  Her dilated eyes peered up at me.  “Something… has my leg.”_

_“What?”  I tried to pull her up over the water but **something** pulled her back down and then further until she was under the water.  “SHIT!”  I gripped her arms.  And then my worst nightmare, a large wave came crashing down on us and we were yanked down below the surface.  I managed to get a great gulp of air and the ocean’s currents swirled us around and then we were too deep, deeper than we should have been if we wanted to live.   _

_I could still feel her hands, my grip on her tight.  I opened my eyes.  Lightning flashed in the sky above and swirling tendrils of blackness had her lower half encased, pulling us deeper into the water. I nearly screamed and yanked her back but I had no traction.  Even as the darkness began creeping up around her. I went to let go of her, it wasn’t worth saving her but my hand was stuck, frozen in place.  I couldn’t move.  I peered into the swirling darkness.  It was like looking into the void of space, there was nothing there, I couldn’t comprehend it and then there was everything there.  Green and brown and it was yanking us toward it.  The blackness covering the passenger and it extended to me, barely covering me as we were yanked through._

_Pain.  I remember that much, pain and screaming and the **abyss**. _

_A great winged serpent with golden eyes coiled around us and roared, lightning sparking up its body and the memory of what happened next failed me for we were tossed into the ocean.  I was too weak but the passenger floated away and I breached the surface long enough to manage another breath, passing out in exhaustion._

I upchucked the contents of my stomach into the murky depths as I snapped back. My memory flooded me and it was not pleasant.

“ _Ugh_ … I hope none of that got on my robe.” Garrett spoke above me as he boarded the ship. 

I hoped _all_ of it got on his robe.  I rasped even as I shuddered but not from the pain of my leg but the insurmountable confusion of my memory returning to me now of all times.

“Remy?” Anders drew my attention as I was placed on the table in Isabela’s chambers on the ship, maps and parchments had been tossed aside.

“Yes?” I croaked and gazed at Anders.  I just wanted to die. 

“You with me?” He questioned just as I zoned out, seeing the blue apparition by him.  I glared at him.  Justice, was his name.

“Kill me.” I rasped, covering my eyes, blocking out this new reality I lived in. 

“I-…I can’t do that. I have to amputate the rest of the infected flesh and prep it for a peg-“

“Get it over with.”  I mumbled, my voice tight as tears pricked at my eyes. 

“Here, Kitten, drink this.”  Isabela held a bottle to my lips and I smelled the alcohol.  It was sharp and strong.  I didn’t wait for further prompting and downed half the bottle, not wanting to be conscious for this next part.  I only stopped when it was pulled away and parts of it poured over my leg, prompting me to scream but a piece of leather was shoved between my teeth and I grit my teeth on it, screaming through it. 

The room was silent as metal met hard bone.  Burly hands held me down against the table and I faced Garrett who gave me a reassuring smile even as the metal ground against my bone. 

“FUCK!”

* * *

 

I don’t quite remember everything that happened after that.  I came in and out of consciousness as flesh was rearranged and the bone rounded.  Potions were fed down my throat to replenish the blood I had lost and at one point, or so Isabela would later tell me, I began screeching expletives in Antivan, which I figured meant Spanish.  All I do know was that by the time I was conscious for longer than a few seconds I was in a bed, a thin blanket half covering my nude body.  A thin sheen of sweat was over me and I was parched.

I stared at the wooden beams of the ceiling of the cabin.  This bed was a lot more comfortable than the bundle of blankets I had been sleeping on prior in the room with Anders.  Certain more spacious as well.

My chest heaved with a heavy sigh, a shot of pain laced up my leg and I was too chicken shit to try to move my leg, knowing at least half of it would be gone.  I could never dream up such a terrible nightmare, I just know everything I could remember happened.

Including the partial return of my memory. I was missing a very large chunk of what happened but I now knew for sure.  I had suspected with the maps and the existence of magic but what happened in that memory, what it meant. 

I’d been transported to some other world, some… where-else and when-else.   It wouldn’t surprise me now that I was entertaining the idea that magic was real.  _Is real._   I corrected myself and grimaced.  This would take some getting used to. 

Given where the route the plane had taken; I can only guess we landed in the Bermuda Triangle.  While it was an urban legend of the triangle’s oddness, there was some types of superstitions involved with it that still persisted in this day and age.  Well… in Earth’s modern day and age.  I didn’t know where the hell I was.  If I survived long enough to return home, I’d need to have as much proof of this as possible.  I wasn’t an astrophysicist but the amount of research this could power…

A groan next to me alerting me to the presence of a warm body as they pressed close to me.  A warm burly _naked_ and _aroused_ body.  Horrified, despite knowing it was a normal nonvoluntary morning reaction, I turned and met the sleepy golden eyed gaze of Garrett Hawke who gave me a pleased grin. “You’re finally conscious.”

I restrained myself from punching his face despite the exhaustion wracking my body still.

“Maybe now you can take responsibility for all that wriggling you did-“ 

_Nope_.  I launched a punch right for his red streaked nose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cabron means dick. 
> 
> Purple/Sarcastic/Flirtatious Hawke was just way too much fun writing. Even if it was all inappropriate flirting/sarcastic Hawke. I swear I have a stitch in my side at how hard I cackled over this. Expect the animosity between Hawke and Remy to one day escalate to hate/angry sex. I am promising this now. Like it is actually written into the outline in red as "NONNEGOTIABLE" 
> 
> What do you guys think? Hell of a chapter, eh?


	6. Perdoname

"Shit, Remy, is that anyway to say thanks to your bed nurse?!" Garrett swore as he fell off the bed, hand clutched to his nose as blood seeped between his fingers. I broke it.

I would have been smirking victoriously but the entire action required I turned and unfortunately it jostled my leg. I went reeling back, my teeth grit as I yelped in pain. I reached for my leg but stopped as I saw the extent of the loss, the blanket now tossed off. "Fuck…" I sobbed, unaware I was now crying. Whether because of the pain or because I was now realizing I had actually lost a leg. "Fuck! Fuuuuck." I gasped.

"Hey…easy." Garrett was back on the bed, fingers pinching his nose. I glared as he sat down, hands out meant to placate me. "It's okay. Everything will be fine." For a moment I almost believed him as there was genuine concern in his eyes and his brows were drawn as he looked back and forth between my leg and my face. There was a soothing quality to the way his hands moved over my leg, his magic pouring out in green and blue waves.

I marveled at how he worked. I was so used to Anders requiring to touch me in order to heal but Garrett wasn't even touching me and the pain was getting better. Better than that it was actually getting…wait a minute. I gripped his hand and tried to ask what he was doing but we both gasped as I sucked him in unpleasantly. The surge of energy and power rushing from him and into me, filling me. It tingled across my skin, gooseflesh rising in its wake and rushed deep into my veins. It was burning, searing that built into a white hot flash behind my eyes.

I panicked, remembering what I had done to the Orlesian mage. I didn't want to kill Garrett but I worried if I didn't stop, I would. My hand was almost sealed against his, the flow of power from him rushed in rapid waves, crashing into me. I choked on a warning, wanting to push Hawke away now but what came out of me was nothing short of erotic. It was a groan, one I recognized and I briefly caught Hawke's gaze in mortification, only he was preoccupied in gritting his teeth and was positioned over me. He was panting.

His wide eyed gaze met mine as I gawked. His cheeks flushed and his brows furrowed while his lips stretched thin, and then he let out a groan himself. His morning arousal throbbed against my stomach and we both hissed as he shifted and nudged against my own member. I shuddered against him, both pleased and disgusted. But I wanted more. It was the sort of unpleasant pleasure you would achieve servicing yourself, only to discover what exactly you were jacking off to. The shame and disgust rolling together mixed with the post orgasmic bliss. But this was before I got off, yet knowing how hard I was, I could see it happening easily and soon.

How long had it been?

Four days? Maybe longer. At least two weeks from before the plane crash.

" _Diablo, as lo que quieras._ " The words spilled out of my mouth in a breathy whisper into his ear. I tugged my hand back and he all but collapsed on top of me. We were pressed close, sweat slick between us, the mixture of our heady breaths was dense between us as Garrett hovered dangerously close. I could taste him. The blanket shifted with his leg and he pressed closer against my aching hardness.

Hawke hissed. "I have no idea what you said but say it again." He huffed with a little laugh and his tongue was licking along my ear.

I laughed throatily until it strained painfully. The pain was a frigid breath, waking me from the feel. Instantly I stopped pulling whatever energy I had been from Hawke, but he still pressed closer. I shook my head as the feelings from the draw faded away just as Garrett went to bite on my neck. I used my left leg and kicked and pushed him once again off the bed. He fell off, grunting.

"Hey I thought we were-"

"You thought wrong." I growled at him and sat up. I shook my head, trying to clear it. What happen?

"I swear you're worse than Fenris…" Hawke grumbled as he stood, grabbing his trousers off the floor just as the door opened.

"For maker's sake, put some trousers on, Hawke!" Anders froze at the door with a bowl in his hands and a bundle in his arms.

"What? You said to keep him warm."

"With magic! Not your body." Anders admonished as Garrett turned around to show off his nudity, one hand trailing over his hips and to his crotch. Both Anders and I turned away as we realized where Hawke was leading our gazes. Garrett snickered but did pull his pants on, painstakingly slow and with a wiggle of his hips.

"Remy?" The healer turned to me once Hawke stepped away from the bed, allowing Anders room. I eyed him. There wasn't an apparition behind him, no ghost or blue opaque man. Nothing there, for now. This world had magic, who knows if ghosts and the paranormal were also real.

Ander's gaze tracked downward, his eyes darkening as I remembered that I too was nude and reasonably aroused.

"My eyes are up here, Anders." I teased the ginger who quirked a smirk up at me.

"I'm well aware, but a healer has to examine their patient." He set the bundle down and held the bowl to me. "Sorry, it's all we have." It was stew. Fish stew.

"Better than nothing." I grumbled and without so much as a second thought, slurped down the stew. I gagged and wanted to spit the stew back out but managed to keep it down.

"I need to examine you, alright?" Anders said, his hands hovering as he opened the bundle. There were a few glass bottles and one jar as well as some leaves that gave off a minty scent. At my nod, Anders pressed at my leg, his hands alight with that familiar glow. I felt a lot more comfortable with him touching me than whatever Garrett had been doing.

Speaking of, the hairy man was still shirtless, and was watching Anders work from over his shoulders with an intense look. "Are you shifting his muscles?" He questioned with a dutiful absorption of a student learning from a master.

"Yes. The peg leg will be painful otherwise if I don't. This way the transition will be as painless as possible. Remy, you alright?" Anders gazed up at me, his fingers dug into my stump, the skin almost all healed except where the cut had been.

It wasn't painful, but it was highly uncomfortable. I don't know how Anders could do this without any pain at all considering I hadn't been given any anesthesia or morphine but he was doing it. "Yes...this is amazing." I spoke through gritted teeth. "It's uncomfortable... but there isn't any pain." I huffed. "How?"

"I'd be a poor Spirit Healer if there was pain." Anders gave a small smile. "Is it alright if Hawke watches?"

"Bit late to ask, but thank you. He can." I consented, and watched as Anders worked his magic. The faint glow and warmth of his fingers unlike anything I had ever seen now that I can watch it up close and personal without panic or confusion clouding my vision. I was still reasonably confused but I pushed it to the back of my mind in favor of watching an as yet unexplained miracle.

But how did it work? How did he draw on this force, this energy to do what he was doing? Where did it come from? And more importantly, could I learn to do the same? I had drawn from the Orlesian mage, could I do the same? Could I then project it out and manipulate it the way Anders and Hawke could?

I could live the dream of all those fantasy movies and books. I could weave magic and create the basic elements as I'd seen Anders and Hawke do. Fire, lightning, ice… Was there also magic for water and air?

"I want to learn to do that." I muttered as Anders wrapped my leg back up once it was all over. He gave a slight pleased laugh, eyes bright as he smiled. Hawke snickered. I didn't understand why they found it amusing. "What?"

"Magic... isn't something one learn to do." Hawke answered, his fingers aflame before he made it disappear. "It's something you're born with."

"It's true. I've never heard of someone wanting to be a mage when they weren't." Anders chuckled.

"What? No... but what about what I can do?" I grasped at straws. here had to be some way I can do what they do. I was here, by some fluke in the universe in a world that had magic. If I could harness magic perhaps I can find a way back through the wormhole that had transported me here. I just needed to learn.

Hawke and Anders shared a look, curious and questioning.

"How do you explain what I did to that mage? What..." I coughed and glowered at Hawke. "...what I just did to you, Garrett." The burly man gave a grin and wink, to my chagrin. I glared at him.

Anders looked between us and hummed. "I don't really know. But it wasn't magic. It was... it was like you were a lyrium potion."

"Really? It felt more like he was drawing my mana away from me… among other things." Hawke mused sending a heated look my way. I ignored Garrett, instead staring at Anders who's face contorted briefly into a look of annoyance. Or was that… jealousy?

"It was similar to how I...killed that other mage." I muttered.

"If that's how they died, then it was a very pleasant way to go." Hawke chuckled and sat on the bed, leering down at me.

"No. She was screaming in pain and looked frightened of me. With you it was…"

"Pleasurable." Hawke moaned.

"Uncomfortable." I spat out and shifted away from him.

"Hmmm." Anders rolled up his sleeves. "So it was different for each person. What were you feeling and thinking each time?"

"And the circumstances. The first time it happened was when I first woke up on board. I remember I had, well to be honest Anders at the time I was still suspicious of anyone with glowing hands." I felt a twist in my stomach at the memory of how I let my feelings cloud the way I behaved. I shook my head. "Sorry about that, I didn't mean to call you a demon."

"That's appropriate." Hawke let out a bark of laughter. "You called Anders a demon? Do you remember Justice at all?"

"Justice?" I do recall him saying something about Justice being a fan.

"Sorry… Vengeance." Hawke gave a bitter grin.

" _HAWKE_." Anders growled, his eyes became a glowing blue and cracks appears in his skin with the same light.

I started seeing the blue apparition again. I jerked back, scuttling on my hands to the furthest corner of the bed. Anders' face contorted, in the midst of some sort of inner battle. His eyes returned to their warm gold, but that isn't what I was looking at. The ghost stood behind him still, staring back at me. I gazed over Anders shoulder right into it. It was like the wispy orange demon that had risen from my blood but it was blue and there was a green mist connecting with it's form and disappearing into Anders, both a part of him and not. The phantasm's mouth opened and closed, speaking something but I heard nothing, only saw his shocked face turn curious. "You can see him?" Anders asked.

"Que?"

"You can see Justice?" Hawke was now intrigued. "Like… actually see him?"

"If justice is a ghost that is standing over Anders' shoulder...then yes." I didn't break eye contact, waiting for it to respond but the room was silent.

"You can see where the fade connects through the veil."

* * *

Anders gave me a cliffnotes version of what the Fade is; what spirits and demons are and can do; where magic comes from and how it pulls from the fade. It was all remarkably similar to what demons are like from home, except spirits were benevolent here and demons malevolent. I wonder if poltergeists were a thing here, wherever here was.

I needed to ask what this world was called, if they even had a name for it. Based on the map I remember seeing, I wouldn't be surprised if they still believed the world was flat. Given the movement of the stars, sun, and the distant curvature of the horizon, it was very much a sphere world. That much I could already say.

The information Anders gave me about their conceptions of the world, I took note of. I could, at the very least, believe in the spirits and demons based on what I could observe and document.

I took notes.

_Fade: noun - land of dreams; beyond._

_Spirits: noun - creature of fade._

_Demon: noun - creature of fade._

_Spirits and demons embody vices and virtues; not mutually exclusive, involves "corruption."_

_Mage: noun - someone who can pull from the fade to create magic._

_Magic: noun - mages are born with it;_

I created pages for each of these things in the woman's journal. My script neat and small. Anders occasionally watched me write but he could neither read or write the English language, even though we spoke it. He showed me how he wrote Common, as he called it. It was runic based and reminded me of Ancient Nordic languages. He said it was a language developed by the dwarves for trading purposes.

Dwarves. Which led to an affronted discussion about how insensitive Anders was for calling them that, and then he explained they were an entirely different race. Hawke and Isabela, had to chime in about that. And then of course they explained the other races of this world. With a special chime in from an elf named Zevran.

"Dwarves are not another race. It is a medical condition." I insisted, to the horror and and amusement of Hawke and Anders. "There are different causes, symptoms and hormone deficiencies that can cause it but that doesn't automatically class them as another race, or well in this case another species. They are still very much human." I tried to explain the basis of medical disorders to them, how it works but I was no master and only had taken an introductory course way back in my undergraduate years. I'm an engineer, not a doctor.

"I suppose Elves are Humans as well?" Came a familiar voice; one I remember speaking Spanish during the scuffle in the warehouse. I eyed the figure in black and silver linked armor, his hood up and mask hanging off him by a leather string. How he managed to stay in that dark clothes while the sun beat down on us, was beyond me.

"Elves?" He was shorter than me and stared up at me with too wide eyes and a grin that was not friendly. "Elves are fairy tales. Not real."

That made the shorter man start, a low chuckle came from him as he shook his head. His hand pulling his hood back and revealing his blonde locks brushed back and two very elongated pointed ears. I barely registered the elongated lines of black tattoo on the side of his face, instead taken by his ears.

"A fairy tale you say? I suppose that's better than being deformed." He pressed close to me, menacingly.

I didn't react. Not because I was scared but because I was honestly curious. I tracked his pointed ears, wanting to examine them. Everything I ever knew about my world was vastly different to this world. I could see these were no prosthetics.

" _Perdoname_." I muttered and that seemed to draw him back, as if he was not used to people simply apologizing so easily. It made sense, the pointed ears, the large eyes. But what didn't make sense was that he was shorter than me. Even with me relying on a cane and a haphazardly made wooden peg leg that I tried not to put my whole weight on, shouldn't elves be taller? "I meant no offense. Where I am from we have no elves. Not like..."

"Me?" The man - elf purred.

"You'll have to excuse him, Zevran, he's lacking in tact." Hawke made excuses for me but I shook my head.

"No no. I should be reprimanded. This is...a lot to take in." I mused. "But I am sorry. The fault was my own." I muttered.

After that disaster, I was very careful with my words. The people here... there were different kinds. Different races as they say. Back home they would be classed as sub-species because they appear humanoid. I almost wished I was a geneticist to examine the DNA and see how they were different and similar. But I was not; so I was content to collect the data based on what I could observer and the societal implications. So far humans and elves were all I had met. There were also dwarves and something Anders called Qunari, horned beings.

I made no assumptions, but I had a feeling the Qunari would be mistaken for demons back home.

Anders taught me more about this world. I listened intently as we sat on the top deck. My leg bandaged and healing. I tried not to think much on it. Nothing I could do but let it heal and learn to use the wooden peg leg they provided for me. Occasionally Hawke joined us and helped me understand this world. It was a consensus when I told them my theories that I was not from this world. I tried to explain my theory of wormholes in the cosmos and space, but astronomy had not yet caught up in this world to theorizing about celestial bodies. Or if they are, it is not a common study or known subject.

_Pity_.

Anders did point out the constellations, of which none of them were similar to the ones from home, so someone out there had clearly thought about it but where they went with it… I do not know.

I made a note to find out.

I wanted to learn about everything from this world. I wanted to document it, so that I could break it down. Find some connection between the magic that permeated this world and whatever cosmic event led to the wormhole in the ocean dropping me here. If I could just learn how…

It seemed like so much. The chances to reproduce a wormhole that would lead me back home was slim. Even I knew the chances were infinitesimal. A fool's errand, but I had to do something or I'd let the panic set in again.

* * *

A few days later the Siren's Call 2 made dock again. I was reasonably worried this time. Would we head directly into another ambush? I could move about on my own but I relied far too much on the cane rather than the pegleg. The layers of cloth and leather were the cushions to the sensitive muscles as it hurt to put my full weight on it. If we were heading to another fight, I would have to hang back.

The dock we came to was lively with many other ships and bustling crowds coming to and from a stone fort. We could see further into the land a town. Garrett came up behind me as I glanced cautiously at the supposed island. Isabela was next to him with a large proud grin.

"Where are we?" I looked back at her as she draped over my shoulders. She'd taken to touching me, especially as I remained shirtless. Her hands traced over the fresh scars that marred my form. Had I not seen her and Hawke sharing looks, I would have taken her overly friendly manner as something more. But she never went much further than casual touching.

"Welcome to Estwatch, the only free port in the Waking Sea."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not entirely pleased with this chapter. But I needed to set Remy up with the budding research he's about to invest in.
> 
>  
> 
> Edit: To clarify what Remy looks like, here's a picture of what _**I**_ envision him as: [Remy Portrait](http://66.media.tumblr.com/d0fff93d52084f611247cadfb2916783/tumblr_o6f6ldOvst1rsf06zo3_1280.png)
> 
> You are more than welcome to come up with your own ideas of what he looks like but I would like to note he _is ___black.


End file.
